“Are you saying someone would like to kill that woman?”

“I told her that if there was an attempt at a third accident, we would know that the other deaths were murder.”

“And she thought . . .”

“She was frightened. But it was the only way I could make her watch for trouble. She was angry with the family, she blamed them for her husband’s fall.”

“I don’t understand how she could.”

Rutledge was walking around the motorcar, but in the rainy darkness he could see nothing. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is, she did. All right, let me know what you find.”

He asked one of the constables to drive him back to Witch Hazel Farm, and with a nod from Jessup, one stepped forward and said, “This way, sir.”

Hamish was saying something, but Rutledge wasn’t listening. He went to find Amy as soon as he reached the house.

“Your sister-in-law ran off the road in the rain. Dr. Fielding is seeing her in his surgery.”

“Oh, dear. I ought to go to her. She should never have been allowed to drive to London alone. Are you sure she’s all right?” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t know what’s to become of us. It’s a little frightening.”

“She’s all right, but I think she might prefer not to be alone.”

“Of course not. But—there’s another problem. We’ve looked everywhere, and Walter isn’t here. No one has seen him since the funeral service. I telephoned the rector—he told me he hadn’t seen Walter since we left the church. You don’t think he’s vanished again? It would be too horrible to contemplate.”

“Did you look in the nursery?” Rutledge asked.

“Yes, before I called the rectory.” She glanced uneasily toward the door. “You don’t suppose he went for a walk?”

“Not tonight. Is his motorcar here?”

“I’m sure it is,” she began doubtfully, then said, “Would you look? It’s in the small barn just beyond the kitchen garden.”

Rutledge went around to the shed where the motorcar was kept.

It was still there. Rutledge laid a hand on the bonnet. It was almost completely cool after driving to the service.

When he found Amy Teller and told her, she said, “I don’t remember exactly when I saw him last. But then I didn’t realize Susannah had left, either. There was such a number of motorcars and carriages and people, at the end.” Amy turned toward the stairs. “Let me fetch my coat,” she said. After a moment she was back, adding, “Perhaps we ought to go to the church. I’ll feel better when we know he’s all right.” She bit her lip. “We let him stay to himself too much. But we were all angry still, and upset about Peter and then Jenny. We let him bear the brunt of our feelings.”

“The church?” Rutledge asked. “All right, we’ll have a look.”

He drove with her to the church, but it was dark and empty, with no sign of Walter. They encountered Mr. Stedley just coming to return the church umbrellas, and asked him again if he’d seen Walter.

“I’m afraid not.” He looked across the churchyard to the raw mound of earth that marked Peter Teller’s grave. “Do you have a torch, Inspector?”

He found the one in his motorcar, but although he flashed it across the stones and beneath the yew trees, there was no sign of Teller.

Stedley, standing in the porch shivering, said, “It’s grown quite chilly. I hope he’s not wandered far.”

Rutledge drove Amy Teller back to Witch Hazel Farm and with her searched the house again, then the outbuildings. But Teller had gone.

“He might have decided to spend a little time with Jenny,” Amy said doubtfully.

She called Dr. Fielding’s house, but Mrs. Fielding told her that they had not seen Teller since the service for his brother.

Edwin, coming down from his bedchamber where he’d been resting, said, “I should think he’s all right. He might have just walked around, trying to clear his head.” But it was like whistling in the dark. His voice betrayed his concern.

Mary said, from her corner by the fire they’d built in the hearth against the chill of the rain, “You don’t suppose he went to my house? Or Leticia’s? Or he may have gone back to London with Susannah. We’re all staying the night here. He may have wanted a little peace and quiet.”

Leticia, who joined them, said, “On foot? The motorcar is here. No, he must have begged a lift from someone.”

Edwin said, “We may be worrying prematurely. Let’s give him another hour. It’s foolish to panic like this.”

“He